


two households, both alike in dignity

by SoManyThings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, M/M, about 99 percent crack, petty revenge, the romeo and juliet of pizza stores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyThings/pseuds/SoManyThings
Summary: "two households, both alike in dignity (in fair pizza shop AUs, where we lay our scene)..."essentially: rival pizza shops piss off matsukawa. matsukawa enlists his colleagues and proceed to make hanamaki's life hard. chaos and petty revenge ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> low key based off a real story of a family friend, but this is gayer and far more petty
> 
> also, i think this is the silliest thing ive ever written, but i enjoyed it and i hope you do too!

“What the _fuck_ just happened?” Matsukawa said, exasperated, running his hands through his perpetually messy hair as he surveyed the scene before him.

Said scene, of course, being Kindaichi standing pathetically in the doorway to the pizzeria, scraped up but otherwise uninjured, with a torn carrier case housing thoroughly trashed pizzas.

“I got run off the road,” he said, fidgeting as he stood and trailed off. Matsukawa sighed heavily, running his hand down his face.

“Sit down, sit down,” Yahaba muttered, fussing with the driver to make sure he wasn’t broken, or anything.

“By _who_?” Kyoutani said, roughly, rolling up his sleeves, albeit calming down when Yahaba gave him a glare.

 “Don’t tell me it was-”

“Johsai Pizzas,” He said, defeated, resulting in resounding groans from around the kitchen.

“Give me 15 minutes,” Kyoutani growled, before halting as Matsukawa put a hand heavily on his shoulder.

“No,” was all he said, drawing the attention of the room to himself. “Before it comes to that, we’re gonna fuck with them and show them what happens when you mess with Seijoh.”

\----

It wasn’t like he was management, or anything. He was a college kid, only just 21, who had taken the dumb job as a pizza delivery boy for the sake of money to get him through school. For gods sake, he hardly ever even turned up to his lectures, and he studied _History/em >._

Of course he shouldn’t be trusted to make plans that were anything but petty revenge, but here they were.

Kunimi was placed in charge of the first order, filling in as the victim of the crime. His choice had been simple cheese pizzas. Just 23 of them, mind you, with a request for them to be separated so there were only half of each pizza in each box.

“Yes, they _need_ to be in separate boxes,” he emphasised, for the third time. Yahaba muffled a snicker with his sleeve.

“I don’t care if that’s against policy, I _demand_ they be in separate boxes,” he said, again. Matsukawa noted how calm he was, how his intonation never wavered. A force to be reckoned with, truly.

He tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear a resigned sign on the other side of the phone, and the repetition of the order to confirm it in all it’s absurdity.

“Yes, 300 Park Street, that’s right,” Kunimi continued, before clicking the phone off.

“And you’re sure that’s not a real address?” Yahaba asked, scanning google maps again.

“It’s the right post-code, sure, but there’s no street with that name.” Matsukawa hummed, glancing over his shoulder.

Kyoutani snickered from his spot on the desk table at the back of the shop.

“Same time next week, then?”

\---

“I said, there is no 300 Park Street!” Hanamaki cried, exasperated. Johsai Pizzas was a small establishment. It took a lot of fucking time and cost a lot of fucking money to bake 23 pizzas, and then cut them in half and put each half in separate boxes. That was _forty-six_ half filled boxes of pizza. That was a lot of fucking effort to transport, but he had done it, god damn it, he had gone all the way to the edge of their stores range and drove up and down the street for an age to try and find the right house, to no avail.

“Just leave it, it was a shitty prank, but you can’t do anything about it,” Iwaizumi called. “They didn’t pick up, and their name isn’t on our database or anything.”

“This isn’t over, I tell you!” Hanamaki cried, huffing his way into the break room. “This isn’t over!”

\---

Sure enough, at the same time the next week, the crew huddled in the back of the shop around the phone for Kyoutani to try his hand.

“Everything.” He said into the receiver, then repeated it, louder and slower.

“Yes, I’m sure. And double everything,” he added, as an after thought. Kunimi laughed quietly to himself. “Yeah, as in, twice as much of everything. Yes, all on one pizza. Why, are your pizzas so shit that you can’t figure that out?”

Matsukawa leant his head against Yahaba’s shoulder, thinking that would at least mildly muffle his laughter. He offhandedly noticed Kyoutani grind his teeth together.

“If there isn’t a good enough amount of toppings I’m sending it back,” he growled, finally, before closing the phone.

Matsukawa lost it.

\---

“I _told you_ it wasn’t a coincidence that it was the same time as the shit last week!” Hanamaki nearly yelled. Watari huffed, deciding to tuck into the heavily topped pizza anyway.

“Did you do anything to piss someone off?” He asked, wincing at the taste and texture of the slice. Some toppings weren’t meant to go on pizza at all, let alone all together.

“No! I’m a fucking angel!” He cried. Watari laughed.

\---

They had made the rounds of the group. They had ordered a frankly ridiculous array of pizza products. They had built up a weekly routine, and it was nearly time for the grand finale. But first, the penultimate piece -

“Yes, the little sauce packets,” Yahaba said into the receiver, unconsciously nodding to himself. “How many can I get for $40?”

Kyoutani stood up and left the room; from the distance Matsukawa noted the heavy laughter he tried so hard to stifle.

“Ah, perfect,” Yahaba continued. “230 sound perfect.”

Matsukawa snickered, watching Yahaba curl his hair around his finger as he spoke with the soft lilt he was near famous for amongst their clients. They had set Yahaba as the penultimate caller for a reason, and said reason seemed to come up just as Matsukawa thought of it.

“I’m sorry?” Yahaba said into the receiver, turning to look as his colleagues with a look of faux offense.

“Oh I’m _so_ sorry to hear that, what an awful coincidence!” he said, voice as angelic as expected. “I _assure_ you, this is completely serious order.”

As he listed off the address which was, of course, completely plausible but wholly imaginary, and signed off with a cheery “see you soon!” and a hum, the group of men paused to ensure the phone was off, before breaking down into whoops of laughter.

“Next week, boys,” Matsukawa said, throwing his arms around Yahaba and Kunimi with a glint in his eyes. “Next week is the pay off.”

\---

“There is no way that’s a genuine order,” He said, glaring at Oikawa as he filled up a plastic bag full of sauce packts. “No way.”

“It’s good sauce, Makki-chan, maybe some people just like it.” 

“I refuse. I _refuse,_ Oikawa, I swear to God-”

“Aw, the best part is that you can’t refuse without losing your job!” Oikawa hummed, handing him the surprisingly heavy bag of sauce and shooing him out of the door.

When Hanamaki returned that time, he simply dumped the bag out onto the floor and wordlessly walked away, flipping Oikawa off over his shoulder as he went.

\---

“Johsai Pizzas, Hanamaki speaking, how can I help?" 

“Hi, I’d like to order a pizza please.” Matsukawa said into the receiver, shushing Yahaba’s laughter.

“Sure, what can I get you?" 

“Okay, beef, but with no sauce, and no cheese, and the beef only on-”

“No, holy shit, fuck you!” the man on the other end – Hanamaki – cried. Matsukawa cut himself off, eyes widening as he threatened to let laughter spill. Instead, he placed the phone on speaker and aggressively hushed his collegues.

“Every _fucking_ week you call, and every time there’s no one to fucking deliver to! It’s all bullshit! Bullshit, I say!”

“Um, excuse me, I think if I had called weekly I would recognise such frankly abysmal customer service.” Matsukawa chided; Hanamaki groaned into the receiver, loudly. Kyoutani smacked Yahaba before he could burst out laughing.

“And now you’ve got the fucking _meme pizza?”_ Hanamaki carried on yelling, “There’s no way that isn’t a prank!”

“Um, rude,” Matsukawa responded. Hanamaki practically growled. As it sounded like he was going to open his mouth to spout more obscenities, a new voice chimed in on the line.

“Hello, Johsai pizzas, Oikawa speaking-” the new voice said. Matsukawa artfully managed to transfer his laughter into a semi-convincing cough. “I’m so sorry about my colleague, sir, what can I get you?”

“Ah, as I was telling your colleague, I want a pizza with no cheese or sauce, but beef, but only on the left,” he said into the phone. Yahaba had begun to cry at this point, crouched on the floor to muffle the laughter.

“Sure, will do! And I’ll send Makki-chan for a special apology, sir,” he began, before adding in another statement with a near growl. “ _Provided,_ of course, this is a real address." 

Yahaba practically wailed.

“Oh don’t worry, it is,” Matsukawa promised. There was no way he would miss this one, not for the world.

\---

“Motherfucker,” Hanamaki growled, eyes raking the house numbers around the street. He was at the right postcode. He was on the right street. He was at number 16. But there was _no fucking house at 16A._

He kicked the wheel of his motorbike.

Distantly, he heard the chime of bells, and turned around at a low voice behind him.

“You must be, what was it, Makki-chan?” the voice said. He spun around and near growled.

“My name is _Hanamaki,_ you prick,” he said. _God damn it, the asshole was attractive._

Said asshole laughed. And of course, Hanamaki didn’t miss the uniform – _Seijoh Pizzas,_ their fucking rivals. _Of course,_ he thought, bitterly. Over the asshole’s shoulder, Hanamaki could just make out a group of employees standing at the window of the pizzeria, watching the unfolding scene with glee.

“Here’s your fucking pizza,” He said again, sending as best a glare as he could at the guy in front of him, who merely laughed and reached down to pick up the pizzas.

“Thanks very much,” he hummed, opening the pizza to check that it was, in fact, none pizza with left beef, and smiling to himself when he saw they at least got his order right.

He spun on his heel, walking away from the seething man behind him, before stopping and looking back.

“Oh, and just so you know, tell your management that next time one of you fuckers run one of our employees off the road, prank pizzas won’t be the worst of your worries,” He called.

Hanamaki kicked his helmet.

\---

“This means war,” Hanamaki said, slamming his fist on the counter after he made it back to Johsai Pizzas. They had an enemy that was no longer faceless, and dear god, would he make the bastards pay for it. 

“Now, now, Makki-chan, patience-”

“Fuck patience!” He cried, nearly hysterical. Watari rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have run their driver off the road in the first place, Hanamaki,” was all he said. Hanamaki waved him off, devising a plan in his head slowly, and ignoring the heavy sighs of annoyance coming from virtually everyone he worked with. This would work, or so help him-

\---

The next day proceeded as follows:

Hanamaki called up Seijoh Pizzas to namelessly order a small pizza with extra extra sauce. Hanamaki proceeded to the pizzeria to collect his pizza. Then, on receiving his nearly dripping pizza from a tall, fidgety, turnip haired boy, he pinpointed Matsukawa in the open plan kitchen, wound up, and sent the pizza flying.

He will be the first to admit that driving aimlessly around town four weeks in a row with more pizza than anyone could ever want was a nightmare, but it became slightly more bearable when the pizza he had just paid for hit Matsukawa on the side of the head with a resounding _splat._

He broke down into laughter, his eyes watering as he heard the company let out offended squawks, but was drawn away from his mirth as the pounding footsteps got closer, and he was lifted up into by the front of his shirt.

Ordinarily, he may have been frightened by (or attracted to) a muscular man of 6’3 lifting him up and slamming him into a wall, but as it stood – with Matsukawa dripping in sauce and melted cheese – he really couldn’t bring himself to do anything but carry on laughing.

“Oh my god,” Matsukawa said, before repeating it and ignoring Hanamaki as he carried on laughing. “Oh my god, we’ve been pranking a lunatic. Dear god. I quit. What the fuck.”

“Nice- _ha!_ Nice look, asshole,” he managed, before dropping his head and letting his shoulders shake with laughter.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Matsukawa finally said, seemingly managing to speak without too much disdain.

“I’ve been told,” Hanamaki replied.

“Well, I think I started an inter-company war, so I can overlook it,” he said, finally letting Hanamaki go so he could stand on his own feet again.

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. ‘Let’s-put-Johsai-in-debt-to-settle-a-score’,” Hanamaki laughed, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Seriously though, tell whoever drives like a fuckass to be more careful, they nearly killed Kindaichi,” He responded, before glancing back at the boy at the counter. “And I think you just gave him a heart attack throwing that pizza.”

“Noted,” Hanamaki hummed, before calling out “Sorry, Turnip!” to Kindaichi, and getting a laugh out of Matsukawa.

“Truce, then?” He asked. Hanamaki shrugged.

“Only if you give me your number?” He said, sending an exaggerated wink his way. Matsukawa rolled his eyes. “So I can keep tabs on you to make sure you don’t keep prank-calling, of course.”

“Try to stop killing my employees and we can talk about you taking me out on a date instead.”

“Excuse me, if anything _you_ would be taking me on a date, considering how much you fuckers cost our company!” Hanamaki squawked. 

“You threw a pizza _at my head,_ you dick!”

“Irrelevant!”

Matsukawa laughed, before swiping his hand through the saucy mixture and rubbing it on Hanamaki’s face, and getting a gasp in return.

“Don’t make a mess unless you plan on cleaning it up!” Yahaba yelled from the back of the shop. Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

“Y’know, the prank was his idea-”

“I don’t believe a second of that.”

“Smart man, I see.”

**Author's Note:**

> yell about seijoh and rare pairs with me @americanbeautiies.tumblr.com


End file.
